two

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M O O N

i hate the dark. there's always that something lurking in the shadows. the skeleton in the closet. the monster under the bed. that thing. that thing that you know isn't really there, but you're still horrified of. that things that's been there, in the back of your mind, for as long as you can remember. maybe it's somethings small. spiders. clowns. or maybe it's something big. masked murders. genocide. ghosts, perhaps. now don't get me wrong, i don't believe in the ghosts that you hear about in fictitious books or movies.

i believe in my ghosts. i believe in the ghosts that are personal to an individual. a mere figment. a ghost is what someone used to be. a speck of what someone used to be. but that speck haunts you. it lingers with you for the rest of your days. those are the ghosts i believe in. those are the ghosts that i know plague me. and i hope and pray to god that they don't plague him.

this is a filler and most likely quite confusing. but it should make sense within a few chapters
- that odd kid who for some reason continues to write this garbage

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